A Year at Beauxbatons
by S.T. Jackson
Summary: With the threat of Sirius Black looming, Dumbledore feels it best that Harry Potter does not attend Hogwarts for his third year. Fortunately, there is an alternative. Hopefully Harry enjoys France!
1. Chapter One: The Unwelcome Guest

Harry James Potter did not fit the usual description of a twelve, soon-to-be-thirteen year old. He did not like summer holidays. When he was away at school, he did not get homesick and he absolutely loved doing homework. By no means was he overly-studious, but when course work consisted of learning about a new world that provided him refuge from his frankly awful relatives, he couldn't help but submerge himself in his work. Another peculiar fact about the boy was he happened to be a wizard. He had a fully functioning wand to prove it.

In between his second and third year of schooling, young Harry Potter stayed with his previously mentioned awful relatives. They were terribly nasty people to the point of almost being comical. To their neighbors, they were as pleasant as possible. However, that cordial facade they worked so hard to maintain would almost immediately disappear as soon as Harry was brought into the picture.

His Aunt Petunia, related by blood to his mother, was more akin to a giraffe than a woman. She could often be found craning her long neck to see over her garden walls or through her house's windows at her neighbors. Her spying habits went hand in hand with the ridiculous gossip mongering she was prone to do with the very ladies she would spy on. She was probably the least unkind to Harry, if only by a small margin. Instead of outright provoking him, she would simply passive-aggressively stare at him until Harry left her sight or make him do chores.

Uncle Vernon was a no nonsense type of fellow that not only lacked imagination and magical ability, but abhorred it totally. A big, beefy man with a neck that disappeared more by the day, Vernon Dursley was as muggle as one could be. His habit to complain about one thing or another always made Harry think that he was physically incapable of being happy. Vernon certainly never looked upon him with a smile, just a frown covered by a large black mustache.

Harry's cousin, Dudley, was the exact polar opposite of everything that Harry was. Being more wide than tall, Dudley had watery blue eyes and thick blond hair. On multiple occasions, Harry likened the boy to a pig in clothing and a wig. Of course, a pig would likely never wear something as distasteful as a wig that resembled Dudley's hair. He was cruelest of the Dursleys. For example, before Harry was revealed to be a wizard, Dudley would often beat up Harry, both with and without his gang. Thankfully, due to Dudley's alarming obesity, Harry managed to outrun him. Although, he still had tape around the bridge of his glasses from the few times Dudley managed to punch him in the nose.

His existence at the Dursley home wasn't as miserable as it was back when he lived in a cupboard, but he knew he'd much rather be living with his friend Ronald Weasley and his family or Hermione and her parents. They were pleasant people that actually treated him like he was human. He appreciated that. Harry figured this summer would just be like the one before, waiting for school to begin. However, he was completely mistaken. Everything changed the day Aunt Marge came to visit…

"Boy! Get in here!" Vernon shouted from the sitting room. Harry gently closed the lid of the case of the broomstick servicing kit his friend Hermione had generously given to him for his birthday. He absolutely loved it and was slightly annoyed someone interrupting his admiration of it. Vernon usually avoided Harry during the day, if at all possible. Whatever he could want must be "important".

When Harry entered the sitting room, Vernon stood up from a chair that appeared to be somewhat molded to man's shape. He put a raincoat on and scowled at Harry. None of this was new. Vernon searched his pockets for his wallet and keys. After confirming he had both, he glared at Harry once more. It took some serious willpower for Harry to not roll his eyes at his uncle's posturing.

"I am going to pick up Aunt Marge right now. She will be staying with us for the week," Vernon announced, grinning nastily at him. Harry paled a little.

"She's coming here?" he yelped. Vernon nodded, his mustache quivering. The man was laughing at him!

"Indeed she is. Before I go, we need to discuss a few things. First, you'll either keep a civil tongue with Marge, or you'll keep it in your head," he said strictly. Dudley unglued his eyes from the new television his parents bought him for the summer. Even television couldn't top the entertainment that was Vernon bullying Harry.

"I will if she will," Harry replied. He wasn't going to just cower, especially because he technically held a trump card. That card was magic. It would ruin his uncle if anyone found out about his 'weirdness'. Of course, he'd be breaking wizarding law and be expelled, but his uncle didn't need to know that. Vernon ignored him and continued

"Secondly, since Marge knows nothing about your—your condition. You will restrain yourself, is that understood?" he said. Harry glowered at the man.

"As long as she is capable of the same," he answered. Harry knew he was pushing Vernon's buttons, but at the moment, he was still trying to figure out what he was going to do about Marge how to best avoid her violent tendencies that she shared with her brother.

"And finally," he said, "because of her lack of knowledge, she has been informed that you are attending St. Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"So instead of telling her I go to some highly private boarding school in Scotland, you decide to tell her I'm an incurable criminal?" Harry asked in a disbelieving tone. After all, it's not every day you're told to act as if you go to a prison for schooling.

"That's right. And you'll tell her the same if you don't want to get the stuffing knocked out of you," he leered.

Harry wanted to say many things, some that likely _would_ have gotten the stuffing beaten out of him. Instead, an idea came to the forefront of his mind. It was nothing clever, but then again he was dealing with the Dursleys, so it didn't have to be.

"Oh gosh. I'm just not sure I can handle all that information at once! I mean, I might accidentally let something slip— 'Oh yes aunt Marge, we _are_ allowed to bring pets to school. Would you like to see my pet owl that delivers my mail? How does it know where to fly? Well you'll never believe this but it's m—'" Harry said. He saw Vernon and Dudley tense up. Petunia looked as if she'd been struck. Harry knew if he didn't resolve this tension quick, he'd likely be beaten senseless.

"Boy—" Vernon warned.

"But if you sign my permission slip, I'll behave like a perfectly normal incurably criminal boy. I'll even remember the name of St. whosiwhatsits," Harry continued quickly.

"St. Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!" shouted Vernon. Harry smirked a little and nodded convincingly.

"Of course. All that will be in order if I can get my permission slip signed," Harry said. Vernon scowled and nodded.

"Fine, boy. If you behave adequately while Marge is staying here and you toe the line, I'll sign your ruddy form," he said. Harry grinned.

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon. I'm glad we could come to an agreement," Harry replied. Before he could say anything else that could possibly get him beaten, Harry headed back upstairs and sat at his desk. He needed a plan to avoid Marge whenever possible.

Forty five minutes passed when there was a sudden knock on the door. His not-really-Aunt Marge bustled past Harry as he opened the door for her and Vernon. She was a carbon copy of her brother, except her mustache was less grown-out and few shades lighter.

The dog that accompanied her was better looking than she was, and it was a bulldog. It growled at him and Harry scowled back. He'd been fairly averse to Marge's dogs since he was about nine when one named Ripper chased him up a tree. It wouldn't have been that bad if Marge hadn't waited till the next morning to call the bloody dog off.

After taking her bags to the guest bedroom, Harry excused himself quietly. If he could get a head start on keeping away from Marge, it would be all the better for everyone. Harry closed the bedroom door behind him and sat in the dingy, small chair at the worn out desk in the left corner of the room. He cast a tired eye at Hedwig, who was in her cage at the moment. She stared back at him with intense amber eyes. He glanced at the creased permission slip on his desk and sighed.

"I've only got to deal with her for a week. Hopefully, I can manage. Think I can do it?" he asked rhetorically. Hedwig bobbed her head up and down as if affirming he could indeed manage. Harry laughed and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"How about I write a letter to Ron and a letter to Hermione. It'd give you some good exercise," said Harry. Hedwig hooted in agreement. Harry took out a piece of parchment.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I hope you are doing well. How is your summer going? Mine is about as dreadful as can be expected. Unfortunately it is only going to get worse. My "Aunt" Marge has come to visit. She's a replica of Uncle Vernon so you can imagine how positively delightful she is. Hopefully she doesn't decide to chase me up a tree again. When are you going to Diagon Alley? You, Ron and I should meet up to do our school shopping. It'll give us a chance to catch up._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Harry_

Harry folded up the letter and put it in an envelope. After writing her name, he pulled out more parchment and dipped his quill in the ink pot.

 _Dear Ron,_

 _How's it going, mate? I think I'm going mad here. Maybe you can come pick me up like you did last year? It was worth seeing Vernon land arse first in his prized hedges. Anyways, my Aunt Marge has come to visit. She's a breeder of bulldogs and has the temperament of them, too. The only thing keeping me from hexing one of them is the fact that I need Uncle Vernon to sign my Hogsmeade permission form. If it ends up going topsy turvy, maybe Fred or George could forge his signature? When is your family going to Diagon Alley? You, Hermione and I should meet up._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry_

He sealed the letters and then looked at Hedwig, who stared at them intently.

"What do you think? Too needy?" he asked. Hedwig hooted. Harry took that as a no.

"Good enough for me. Take these to Ron and Hermione quickly and don't leave until you get a response from each," Harry said. Hedwig nibbled his ear affectionately, ate some of the food in her bowl, and took off into the night sky. Harry watched her until she disappeared into the clouds and then sighed, sitting back in the rickety chair in the smallest bedroom in Number 4 Privet Drive. He longed to be in the magical world once more; away from the Dursleys, Aunt Marge, and her dreadful bulldogs. Within the hour, Harry was fast asleep.

The week dragged on for Harry. He often found himself hiding somewhere in the neighborhood or simply in his room. He wasn't intimidated by Marge and was only cautious of the grumpy bulldog she kept with her at all times. However, he adopted a philosophy along the lines of avoidance whenever possible. After all, he couldn't lash out against her if she wasn't around, and vice versa. It seemed to be working quite well for everyone. Unfortunately, the last night ruined everything.

Harry was dragged into the kitchen by Petunia to help with dinner. Marge was in the living room. She saw him and then began her tirade immediately.

"You're letting him help prepare the food, Petunia? Are you sure he's capable of such a task? I mean, he's as thin as a rake! And just look at his hair. He looks like a ragamuffin…" she raved.

He focussed totally on making food, but his pseudo-aunt was unrelenting. She seemed to attack anything she could. She started on his appearance, and continued from there. She insulted his reputation with the neighborhood, the fact that he did badly at school, and a number of other things she deemed wrong.

Of course, the woman's opinion was less that dirt to Harry, and so he continued cooking. Petunia even gave him an impressed glance once because of his lack of response to Marge's verbal abuse! Of course, Dudley and Vernon were soaking it up and adding to the fire. Just when he thought he was going to snap, Petunia snatched up the food and put it on a plate to serve.

"Dinner!" she cried, bringing the food to the table. If there was one thing that the Dursleys enjoyed more than tormenting Harry, it was food. Harry stayed in the kitchen, eating his food at the counter. He was enjoying the lack of attention his relatives were paying him. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

"You mustn't blame yourself for how he turned out, Vernon. It's all about blood bad blood…" Harry heard Marge say. He chuckled. She sounded just like a certain blond ponce he knew. He tuned his listening back in.

"What was it his father did?"

"He um… he didn't work," said Petunia timidly. Marge snorted.

"And a drunk too, no doubt," she said. Harry stiffened. Vernon stared at him warningly. _Behave or else_. With a slow breath, Harry tried to relax. He focussed his mind on other things. He thought of the permission form. Just another month or so and he'd be back in the magical world—

"Actually it's nothing to do with the father. It's all to do with the mother. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup!" she said with finality. Harry exploded.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" he shouted. For a moment, everything was quiet. Marge's smirk curled into an evil smile.

"How dare you! I swear you'll regret the day you were born when I'm done with you!" she raved. She stood as if to try and beat him. Harry slipped his hand into his baggy jeans where his wand rested. One wrong move from the woman and he'd test out that bat-bogey hex Ginny had taught him the year before. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Go get the door, boy," Vernon spat. Harry stared for a moment, " _go now boy_!"

Harry approached the front door. He glanced through the peep hole and groaned. A man in a blue robe was standing there, looking around the neighborhood. This was really not a good time for any magical interference. It would only further serve to enrage the Dursleys. He knew he wasn't going to get his form signed anyways, so he decided to open the door.

The man was very tan. He had deep black hair the was ruffled yet nicely groomed. His black goatee was shaved sharply. He smiled.

"Ah. You must be Mr. Potter. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Gabriel—" the man had a very distinct Spanish accent.

"WHO IS AT THE RUDDY DOOR, BOY?" Vernon shouted.

"Come with me, please," said Harry, guiding the confused man to the kitchen. He knew he'd get a kick out of whatever came next.

As the man stepped into the Dursley's vision, Harry choked back a laugh. He wasn't the only one choking, either. Petunia looked as if she was trying to swallow a lemon whole. Harry thought Vernon might be part chameleon with how fast he was changing from peach to red to purple. Dudley squeeked and slapped his hands around his bottom. Marge just looked confused

"Hello sir. My name is Gabriel Martín. I am a representative from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I am here in regards to a temporary transfer of one Harry James Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to our esteemed school," Gabriel said formally.

"What?" Harry and Vernon said at the same time. Their tones were completely different. Harry was confused while Vernon seemed on the brink of exploding. Gabriel looked taken aback.

"Um… yes. You see, a high-security prisoner escaped from the wizarding prison, Azkaban about a week ago. Hogwarts, the school Mr. Potter attends, is working with Beauxbatons in order to protect him. We believe Mr. Potter is a target of the escapee," he explained. Vernon was breathing very heavily.

"What the ruddy hell are you taking about, young man? You seem to act as if magic was real, talking about wizards and witches," Marge said, waking out of her stupor. Gabriel looked at her, then at Harry.

"This woman doesn't know about the magical world?" he asked. Harry shook his head. In a flash, his wand was in his hand.

"Obliviate."

"What did you do to my sister?" roared Vernon. Gabriel looked disapprovingly at him. Harry snickered and kept near the door, just in case his uncle decided to get violent. He didn't want to be collateral damage.

"I simply wiped her mind. As a muggle not directly related to a wizard, she must not know about wizard kind," Gabriel explained.

"Get the hell out of my house, you freak!" Vernon shouted. Gabriel squinted at the man.

"Not until I explain to you what Harry's circumstances will be this coming year," he said firmly.

"He really doesn't care. We can talk about it outside if you want," said Harry. Gabriel shook his head.

"We cannot be out in public when discussing such a delicate matter. If necessary, you can return with me back to Beauxbatons. We can explain the situation there and get you acquainted with Headmistress Maxime," said Gabriel.

"Works for me," Harry said, shrugging. He trusted the man. After all, if he wanted Harry dead he'd likely be already dead.

" _OUT!_ " Vernon said wildly. He appeared to only be able to communicate in one syllable words. Harry knew that his uncle was about to snap.

"Come along, Mr. Martín. We should probably get going," Harry urged. Gabriel scowled before following Harry out the door. The man sighed and smoothed his robes.

"That was… interesting. Your family they seemed…"

"Unpleasant?" Harry suggested. Gabriel nodded but said nothing. He walked up to the curb and held out his elbow for Harry to grab.

"Are you familiar with apparition?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"Um, no. Why?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Prepare yourself," was all Gabriel said before they disappeared with a loud pop. Harry felt as if he was being sucked through a straw. His body was stretching. Just as it was about to be unbearable, Harry and Gabriel landed on a cobbled street.

Harry felt dizzy. His eyes were swimming and his mind was racing. What had just happened? Was that teleportation? The air was brisker around them than the suburb they were just at.

"Impressive," said Gabriel.

"What is?" asked Harry

"You did not lose your dinner like most do on their first apparition trip," Gabriel replied matter-of-factly.

"Where are we?" Harry said.

"We are in the Pyrenees mountain range right now. Welcome to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Mr. Potter," Gabriel said, gesturing to a castle about a half mile away. Harry gasped. It was more centralized than Hogwarts, with less towers and more of a single structure, but it was much wider and taller than all of Hogwarts. To say it was beautiful was an understatement.

"Wow," Harry said breathlessly. Gabriel nodded.

"It is beautiful, no? Let us go."

Harry followed the man to a set of gates that were roughly twenty feet tall. Two massive statues held large stone spears in the shape of an X in front of the gate. With a flick of Gabriel's wand, the statues shifted and saluted them as they passed. Harry saluted back before putting his hand back down. Magic or no, he felt a little silly saluting a statue.

After going through the gates, Harry and Gabriel took a brief tour of the grounds on their way to meet Madame Maxime. The school was decorated by many beautiful statues and murals in many mediums of art including paint and tile.

"This is La Fontaine de Flamel. It was generously provided by one of our benefactors, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel. Nicholas was the only known creator of the Philosopher's stone and a Beauxbatons alumni," Gabriel said proudly. Harry smiled.

"Oh yeah. In my first year Voldemort was trying to steal the Philosphers Stone," Harry recalled. Gabriel looked at him in surprise.

"What happened?"

"I stopped him. He was possessing our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Something happened when I grabbed him and he burned up," Harry said matter-of-factly. Gabriel looked at him stunned for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Quite the tale. Let us go," he said. Harry wasn't comfortable talking about his adventures with most people, but with Mr. Martín he couldn't help that small slip. After all, the man's reaction was quite funny.

After venturing through the halls, they arrived at a pair of huge oak doors, each with a shiny golden handle that together resembled the shape of a heart. Before either Gabriel or Harry could grasp the handle, the doors creaked open.

"Ah Mr. Potter. Please come in. We have much to discuss," a voice from inside the room called.


	2. Chapter Two: Le Centre du Monde

"Hello Monsieur Potter. I am Madame Maxime. It is a pleasure to meet you," the woman behind the desk said.

Saying she was tall is similar to saying that Leonardo da Vinci just painted. It was an understatement of the highest order. Harry doubted whether there was an inch difference between his friend Hagrid and this woman. She was adorned in opal jewelry and satin robes. Her liquid black eyes were serious, yet held a spark of amusement. She looked from Harry to Gabriel.

"You're dismissed for now, Gabriel. I will call you when Mr. Potter will need to be taken home," she said. Gabriel nodded and closed the doors behind him. Her eyes flicked from the door to Harry. He was about to ask a question when she held up a hand.

"Before you ask me anything, I must ask you a question. What do you know about Sirius Black?" Madame Maxime asked. Harry remembered earlier that day.

"He's the escapee from Azkaban, right? I saw him on the news and then Gabriel mentioned it when he picked me up," Harry explained.

"Correct, Monsieur Potter. Sirius Black is a highly deranged and dangerous individual. He was a former servant of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and it is believed he is currently hunting you, to finish what Voldemort started," Maxime said grimly. Her eyes drifted up to Harry's scar for a moment, before focussing back on him.

"That is why Hogwarts and Beauxbatons will be coordinating a sort of temporary transfer. You will be attending Beauxbatons until the threat of Sirius Black is gone," she said. Harry looked bewildered.

"Isn't there any other way? I mean, what about my friends? I don't speak French, either!" Harry exclaimed. Maxime looked at him sharply.

"The alternative option was stationing dementors at every entrance to Hogwarts and taking the risk of you attending. Of course, Headmaster Dumbledore would not have the vile creatures on the grounds. Not to mention Black was able to escape their notice once, which means he could do it again. No, this is the best option, Monsieur Potter," said Madame Maxime firmly.

"What about my English? How can I learn if the teachers are speaking another language?" Harry asked exasperatedly. Madame Maxime chuckled.

"We have a solution for that. After all, I am not speaking English right now, and I am certain you are not speaking French," she said mirthfully.

"What—" Harry began.

"Beauxbatons, while within French borders, is an international school. We have students from Spain, Portugal, Holland, Luxembourg and Belgium as well as France. Naturally, this was a problem so we brought in several specialists. The solution they came up with is an enchantment that allows language to be translated in real-time. It is very ingenious," she explained. After a moment of silence, Harry spoke once more.

"Will I be able to stay in contact with my friends?" he asked. She nodded.

"Of course, of course. However, information regarding where exactly you are must stay strictly between you, Headmaster Dumbledore, and myself. We cannot risk any security slips," Maxime said adamantly.

"Yes ma'am," he said dutifully. Madame Maxime smiled.

"Wonderful! Now, do you have any other questions?"

"Yeah. What kind of classes will I be taking?" asked Harry.

"Your core courses will include Brewing, Studying the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, History of the Magical World, and Studying Magical Flora and Fauna," said Madame Maxime. She pulled open a drawer behind her desk, "There are also some optional courses which you will have to decide on. I have the options listed somewhere here. Ah, here we are."

Madame Maxime handed Harry a roll of parchment. Harry scanned over the page. Many of these courses he didn't see at Hogwarts. He looked up at Maxime with surprise.

"There are a lot of options here. How many do I get to choose?" he asked.

"You can choose three courses. I do not expect you to make a decision now. Within the next week or so, Gabriel will collect you for school shopping. You can give him your choices then," Madame Maxime replied. Harry rolled the list up and pocketed it.

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you have any more questions?" she asked. Harry shook his head and she smiled.

"Very well then, Mr. Potter. While you are a transfer student due to unfortunate circumstances, I do hope that you do not expect to let your academics lack this year. Our school is very prestigious and we have a reputation to uphold," she warned.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said seriously. He intended to do well this year, even if in a different country. After all, he didn't have Hermione to help him with schoolwork whatsoever this year.

"Good. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Potter," Maxime said. Harry recognized the dismissal. He nodded, stood up, and made his way to the door.

"You as well, Madame Maxime," he acknowledged before exiting the office. Gabriel was waiting for him outside the door.

"Let us go back to your relatives, shall we? Hopefully they will be in a better mood," he said, gesturing for Harry to follow him.

"I very much doubt it. I don't think they've ever been in a good mood around me," Harry grumbled. Gabriel sighed.

"It is sad to see your family treat you so unkindly," he remarked. Harry chuckled.

"It used to be a lot worse. Ever since I found out I was a wizard, it's kind of put an end to their campaign against me. The only reason they were so bad tonight was because of that woman you obliviated. She's visiting for the week and I doubt that was how they wanted her last night to go," said Harry. Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

"Oh my! I must apologize at once!" he said earnestly. Harry laughed. Marge and the Dursleys deserved what they got. After all, they've been making Harry's life miserable since he'd been one. What was one night where the tables were turned.

"Don't worry about it. They definitely warranted getting knocked down a peg or two," Harry replied with conviction.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

Harry and Gabriel walked through the grounds at a much slower pace than they had entering. Mr. Martín would even sometimes stop and talk about some of the art or an alumnus that did something significant. It was quite fascinating, but Harry was exhausted and couldn't help but occasionally lose focus. Gabriel noticed after a short while, and led Harry to the edge of the grounds. Once there, Harry gripped Gabriel's arm and they both apparated away.

With a pop, the two arrived at Privet Drive. Gabriel walked Harry to the door before holding his hand out for Harry to shake. Harry took it firmly. Harry opened the door. Suddenly, Vernon's voice exploded through the doorframe.

"HOW DARE YOU COME BACK HERE YOU _FREAK!_ " Vernon roared. The man charged at the two wizards. Gabriel's wand was in his hand in a second. With a flash, Vernon was suspended in the air, swinging his arms and legs like an infant. Gabriel glowered at the large squirming man

"You are not very pleasant, Mr. Dursley. Quite frankly, it disturbs me that I have to allow Harry to stay here, but I must. I will come to collect him within a week for school shopping. I will then drop him back off. Finally, on August thirtieth, I will pick him up once more to help him get to Beauxbatons. _You_ will NOT harm a hair on his head or I will be… displeased. Am I understood?" Gabriel said dangerously. Vernon, as stupid as the man was, recognized that he was beaten. He nodded, grumbling. Gabriel set him down gently.

"Thank you Mr. Martín," Harry said.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I will see you within a week. Good evening," replied Gabriel. Then, he walked out the door. An audible pop later and Mr. Martín was gone. Vernon glowered at him.

"Don't expect any favors from me, _boy_ ," he spat before lumbering up to his bedroom, where Aunt Petunia was likely waiting to hear what happened. Harry sighed and waited a few minutes before retiring to his room.

Hedwig was waiting for him with two letters attached to her claw. She hooted in greeting. Harry waved back and removed the letters.

"Good to see you, girl. This is going to a be a strange year. Sirius Black is after me so Dumbledore's decided to send me to a school in France," Harry explained, unclasping the letters. Hedwig hooted in surpise.

"I know! Be ready for a bit of exercise this year. I need to stay in contact with Ron and Hermione," he said. Hedwig ruffled her wings in excitement. Harry smiled and stroked her head. He read Hermione's letter first.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I'm sorry about your relatives. Hopefully your uncle's sister leaves you alone. My summer has been quite lovely. Mummy and Daddy took me to Paris again, which is always nice. Did you know that France has a magical school? Apparently it's a lot larger than Hogwarts. I'd love to see it someday! Anyways, I believe we are going to Diagon Alley on August fifteenth. Does that suite you and Ron? Write back soon!_

 _Love,_

 _Hermione_

Harry grinned at Hermione's letter. He so badly wanted to tell Hermione that he had already seen the school and it was quite beautiful. Unfortunately, Harry knew he had to keep it a secret, at least until Black had been apprehended. He picked up his quill and dipped it in the inkwell on his desk.

 _Hermione,_

 _I don't know if you've heard or not, but a dangerous inmate from the wizarding Azkaban by the name of Sirius Black is on the loose. Apparently, he's after me. Dumbledore's putting me into hiding and has alternate plans for my schooling. I'm really sorry I can't tell you more than this, but it's for our own safety, at least that's what I'm told. Even though I can't divulge much information on that aspect, I very much want to keep in contact as much as possible. I have a feeling I'm going to be fairly lonely otherwise. I'm sorry I won't be able to see you this year. I'll miss you and Ron lots!_

 _Love_

 _Harry_

Harry rubbed his eyes. It was getting late. He had to write these letters, though. Hermione and Ron deserved to know as much as Harry could tell them. He unfolded Ron's letter and read it.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Hey mate! Don't let those muggles get you down too much! Unfortunately we can't try to rescue you again as my family's in Egypt visiting my brother, Bill. It's absolutely brilliant here! There's a lot of old magic stuff in the pyramids. When Percy was taking a closer look at some hieroglyphs, Fred and George almost sealed him in. The look on his face was hilarious! Anyways, we'll be coming back soon. I'll owl you when we're going. See ya then!_

 _Ron_

Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and pressed it to the parchment.

 _Dear Ron,_

 _Egypt sounds amazing! I hope you and your family are enjoying yourselves. Unfortunately, there's been a change in plans. I don't know if you've heard, but Sirius Black escaped Azkaban. The nutter is apparently after me, so Dumbledore is putting me in hiding. I'll be able to still owl you guys, but I won't be able to give out a lot of information. I'm sorry, mate. Anyways, owl me soon! I'll miss you and Hermione lots!_

 _Harry_

After signing his name at the bottom of the letter, he tied it to Hedwig's leg. She looked at him sleepily.

"Get some rest, girl. You can head out tomorrow," Harry said, stroking the owl's head. Hedwig hooted tiredly before dozing off. Harry mimicked his owl, slumping onto his bed. He was fast asleep within minutes.

The following week passed slowly. Harry was mistaken when he thought the Dursleys were afraid of him when Hagrid had put a tail on Dudley. Now, they were truly afraid of him. After all, the thought of one being able to erase another's memories with the flick of a wand is truly terrifying.

Harry did feel a little bad at first, but then he thought of all those years of living in a cupboard and being starved, and those pesky negative feelings evaporated instantly. Harry didn't feel happy about the new change, but he did appreciate the fact that they no longer bothered him other than telling him it was time for dinner.

After a week of wandering around the neighborhood aimlessly and unintentionally terrifying his relatives, Gabriel Martín arrived once more. Harry answered the door and shook the man's hand.

"Hello Mr. Martín. Good to see you again," said Harry.

"You as well, Monsieur Potter. Let us go," Gabriel replied.

"Are we apparating there?" Harry asked. Gabriel shook his head.

"No, there are enchantments preventing apparition, as a security measure. Alternatively, we have a portkey which will allow us to get there. Here," he said, holding out the end of a belt.

"This just looks like a belt," Harry commented skeptically. Gabriel smirked and nodded.

"That's the point. Mundane items are much easier to carry around and conceal," said Gabriel.

"Oh," Harry said. He was still unsure when he grabbed the belt, that is until he felt a tug at the small of his back. It was as if a rope or bungee cord had suddenly flung him backwards. The rope was flinging him around like a rag doll. He whipped every which way. Every second made him dizzier and dizzier. Suddenly, just as soon as it had started it ended.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked, patting Harry's back and trying not laugh. Harry's head was swimming.

"Yeah… just give me a moment," Harry said while trying to get his breath under control. After a few moments of getting his bearings, Harry looked around. They had appeared at the edge of a massive square. Shops advertising all kinds of magical products lined the square. In the middle of the square was a large fountain. It shot mist into the air, which shimmered in the light. Rainbows of all shapes and sizes seemed to appear and dissipate randomly from the mist. People popped out of thin air around him, usually holding some mundane object.

"Wow," Harry said breathlessly. Gabriel nodded.

"It is impressive, no? It is called 'Le Centre du Monde', which translates to, 'The Center of the World'. This is one of the most innovative locations in wizarding France and you can only get here through some form of magical travel. In that shop over there," Gabriel explained, pointing to a very large building, "Is where the furnaces are for floo travel."

"Not a big fan of floo travel," Harry grimaced, remembering the year prior when he ended up at Borgin and Burkes.

"Not to worry. We are taking a portkey back," Gabriel replied, "let us go get your supplies."

Mr. Martín led Harry through the square towards a road that sloped upwards. There were people of all kinds wandering around the street. Many spoke French, but Harry also recognized several other languages. At the very end of the street at the top of the hill, a familiar marble building stood tall.

"Is that Gringotts?" asked Harry.

"Indeed it is. This is their French branch. We are going to make a withdrawal for you, then we will start shopping," Gabriel explained. Harry looked at the man in confusion.

"A withdrawal? But how is that possible if my galleons are in my vault in London?" Harry said.

"We will simply withdraw from the bank itself. Then, they will send a letter to their British branch so they can receive the appropriate compensation from your vault," explained Gabriel.

They entered the bank. Just like the exterior, the interior of the building was completely identical to the one in London. To Harry's left and right, goblins were weighing precious stones and gold, scribbling furiously, or helping a wizard or witch. The ceiling high above them held a chandelier that appeared to made of liquid gold. Harry approached the desk with Mr. Martín.

" _Comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui_?" the goblin asked.

"What?" asked Harry cluelessly. The goblin regarded him for a moment before clearing his throat.

"I asked how I may be able to assist you today," said the goblin. Harry was surprised that the goblin did not have an accent. It sounded very similar to the British goblins, who if Harry came to think of it, didn't have a British accent, either. Maybe they had their own accent?

"Oh. Um, I need to make a withdrawal," Harry said uncomfortably. He'd never really dealt with the creatures before. The past two times, Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley had helped him. The goblin glared, or at least it looked as if he were glaring.

"How much will you be withdrawing today?" he asked in the creature's ever snide tone. Harry wasn't sure. He tried to think of how much everything was the last few times he'd been shopping, but he was drawing a blank.

"Allow me, Mr. Potter," Gabriel said, stepping up next to the boy, "We'll need a withdrawal of about seventy galleons."

"Very well. Do you have Mr. Potter's key?" the goblin asked. Gabriel nodded and he held out a small brass key. After closely examining it, the goblin looked back up at them.

"Everything seems to be in order. Allow me to get you your money," said the goblin, hopping off the stool and going through a door near the back of the room.

"Thanks for your help, Mr. Martín," Harry said gratefully.

"Don't mention it, Mr. Potter. Now, I believe that it was time you held on to this. I'm surprised Dumbledore still had it," Gabriel replied, handing Harry his vault key. Harry looked at it cautiously. He wasn't the best when it came to keeping things safe. Goodness knows Hermione almost throttled him the month he had lost his last quill. He'd quickly ordered a new set as soon as he saw the glare she gave him.

"You are worried about loosing it, are you not?" asked Gabriel. Harry nodded sheepishly. Was he that easy to read?

"Yes sir."

"Allow me, then. _Tenuto persempre!_ " Gabriel said with a flick of his wand, _"_ You see, this used to be a problem amongst witches and wizards. They would lose their key and then they could not get their money. However, the goblins decided to counteract this by inventing a new spell. Now, the key will stay on your person, even if someone decides to take it."

"Wow. Thank you again," Harry said, pocketing the key. After a short while, the goblin came back with a medium sized sack filled with jingling coins. Harry took it.

"Come along, Mr. Potter," Gabriel said, leading Harry out the door.

"Do you know what we need to buy, Mr. Martín?" Harry asked. He didn't know if Beauxbatons had different requirements regarding supplies. Gabriel nodded and pulled a list from his coat. He handed it to Harry.

 _Beauxbatons supplies list (English version)_

 _Students will need_

 _1\. A wand_

 _2\. A standard-sized pewter cauldron and the standard kit of brewing ingredients (year 3)_

 _3\. Standard Spellbooks which include..._

 _1\. Magical Flora and Fauna of France by Danielle Bernard_

 _2\. The Complete Guide to Curses, Hexes and Jinxes by Anthony Thomas_

 _3\. Charms Year Three by Caroline Lefevre_

 _4\. Magical History Year Three by Nathan Mercier_

 _5\. The Art of Transfiguration and Conjuration Year Three by Julia Colin_

 _6\. Brewing and Potionmaking Year Three by Danielle Bernard_

 _4\. Second year students and older may bring a broomstick_

 _5\. Pets allowed at the school include owls, toads, and cats._

 _*Other pets may be accepted if an appeal is brought to the headmistress and the school board_

"I can't believe I almost forgot!" exclaimed Gabriel suddenly. He then pulled out another list and presented it to Harry. He recognized it as the extra curricular classes he needed to choose.

"You will need to choose two extra curricular classes. Take a look and let me know what you pick," said Gabriel. Harry looked over the list a little surprised.

"You have quidditch as an extra curricular class?" said Harry excitedly. He didn't remember seeing it last time he read the list. Gabriel nodded and grinned.

"Indeed we do. This class will help you learn more about the sport, its history, and even train you to become a better quidditch athlete," Gabriel enthused. It was clear to Harry that the man loved the sport as much as he did.

"Well, I suppose I'll choose that class and… What's this one?" Harry asked, pointing to the last one on the list. Gabriel looked very serious.

"That is occlumency training. Occlumency allows one to keep others from intruding their mind. Most of the time only prospective magical police or military take this course, but it is not unheard of for one to take it. Occlumency also can help one organize their thoughts better," Gabriel explained. Harry nodded.

"I'll take that one, then," Harry said.

"Are you sure? It is a very difficult course," warned Gabriel. Harry nodded.

"I'm sure," Harry said with finality.

"Alright then, Mr. Potter. Let us get your school supplies," Gabriel said, gesturing for Harry to follow him.

Harry and Gabriel walked around the whole square. They first went to a book store called _Scrive's et Érafler's_. Its marble floors reflected the looming ceiling. It had three floors with books packed to the brim. Harry looked around in amazement. Hermione would have a field day here. With the help of a sales-witch, Harry left with a large stack of books. His favorite was definitely _The History of Quidditch._

After leaving the book store, Harry and Gabriel went to a large brick building in a corner of the square. A wooden sign said, _La boutique de potions de Villenova_. Inside was dark and cool. There were many sealed containers full of potion ingredients. In the back of the store were seven shelves that held small potion kits labelled by year. Gabriel grabbed the one labelled _Trois_ , as well as a cauldron that fit the specifications of the list.

"Will I need anything else for my extracurricular classes, Mr. Martín?" asked Harry as they exited the potions shop. Gabriel shook his head.

"You need a broom and the quidditch textbook for your quidditch class, and your wand for occlumency. I assume you already have all of those?" Gabriel said. Harry nodded, slipping his hand into his pocket, where his wand was, "Very good. I shall drop you off back at your home, then."

One more portkey trip later, and they were back at Number Four Privet Drive. Harry dragged all of his things up to his room with the help of Mr. Martín, much to the annoyance of Harry's relatives. After Gabriel left, Harry went through all of his textbooks, opened the one on quidditch and began to read.


	3. Chapter 3: Snuffles

A couple of weeks had passed since Gabriel had taken Harry to _Le Centre du Monde._ Harry missed France. He hadn't been there for long, but it definitely left a lasting impression on him. Of course, he wished he'd rather be anywhere else than where he was at the moment, but France was at the top of his list of destinations, along with Hogwarts of course. Maybe he'd take a vacation there when he came of age instead of going into hiding. One tended to appreciate the sights more when not on the run from a murderous maniac.

At the moment, Harry was at a park nearby his relatives' home. He'd decided to hide out there for the day and so far, it was fairly pleasant. A few people who passed by acknowledged him kindly with a wave or a nod. It was nice to see people look at him as if he were normal and not a freak or celebrity.

Harry's musings were interrupted by a bark close by. Harry turned to the noise and saw a large shaggy black dog staring at him. It barked again. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say the dog was almost smiling.

"Hello there. Are you lost?" Harry called. The dog plodded up to him and sat on its haunches.

It barked again.

"I don't see a tag on you, so you must be a stray," Harry observed. The dog let out a laugh-like bark. Harry never had a dog, so he wasn't really sure if this was normal behavior or not, "Well, I can't bring you home, my relatives don't really like me and they'd definitely despise you."

The dog whined and tilted its head. Harry chuckled.

"It's not you, it's me," he said dramatically. The dog barked again. Harry was certain it could understand him.

"You can understand me, can't you?" Harry asked. The dog nodded and Harry's eyes went wide, "Are you a magic dog?"

The dog tilted its head back and forth in a ' _more-or-less'_ gesture.

"Wow… What are the odds I find a magical dog," said Harry. Privet Drive was about as far from magic as one could get, so to find another magical being even in the area surprised Harry.

Harry began talking to the dog. Of course, to anyone who saw them, Harry likely looked a little silly, but it was cathartic talking to something that wouldn't judge him or try to give advice. Being able to vent was certainly cathartic for the boy and the dog was a very good listener. Harry wasn't even sure it blinked while he was talking. All too soon, the sun was beginning to set. Harry looked around and then back at the dog sadly.

"I'm sorry… what should I call you? Dog?" Harry asked. The dog barked and shook its head.

"Shadow?"

 _Woof._ Another head shake.

"Maximus?"

 _Woof._ Another no.

"Hmm… how about Snuffles?" Harry asked out of jest. He wasn't really being serious when suggesting it. The name was very silly after all.

 _Woof Woof!_ The dog was nodding excitedly. Harry laughed.

"Really? Snuffles?" Harry said sarcastically. The dog gave him a look as if to say, ' _What's wrong with snuffles?'_

"Don't get all huffy with me! I was joking but if you like it…" Snuffles barked in confirmation, "Snuffles it is, then. Well Snuffles, as much fun as I had talking to you today, I really must go. My relatives'll get real testy if I'm late."

Snuffles whined and put his chin on Harry's knee.

"Sorry, boy. I'll come visit before I leave for school though, okay?" Harry said, getting up. The dog nodded and barked once more before plodding off into the bushes nearby. Harry watched the dog disappear and then made his way back to Number Four.

Thankfully, Harry had got to the house before Dudley. He crept upstairs quietly. Hedwig was out hunting at the moment. At his desk were two letters from his best friends. He'd read them, but he wasn't sure how to answer. They had a lot of questions and he didn't have any answers. At least, not any he could give them without lying or blowing his cover. Harry sat at the desk and rubbed his temples.

"How am I supposed to answer this?" he said rhetorically. He missed Hedwig. At least he didn't feel totally crazy when venting to the owl, as opposed to no one. After another five minutes of fuming, Harry decided he should write to Dumbledore. He wasn't sure if he'd get a response, as the plights of a thirteen year-old were likely beneath his notice, but it was worth a shot.

 _Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

 _I hope you are having a pleasant summer. Mine has been a bit confusing due to the Beauxbatons situation, and I was hoping to get some advice. You see, my friends Ron and Hermione have a lot of questions about my situation. Madame Maxime said that the only ones who can know where I actually am are you, her and myself. What should I tell my friends? If you can lend me any advice I would be very appreciative._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

He folded his letter and set it aside. He could give it to Hedwig when she returned. For now, Harry reread his friends' letters.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I don't really know what to say. I mean, of course I'm worried about you, especially with that man on the loose. But I'm sure Dumbledore has a plan. He wouldn't do anything without carefully planning it, would he? I realize that you can't say anything indiscreet, but any information you can give me would be welcome. Please?_

 _On a lighter note, I finally finished all of my homework! I'm taking as many classes as I can and the work load is fairly large, but I believe I can do it! I'm taking Study of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies. I know that sounds like too much, but all of the classes sound so fascinating! I'll keep you updated on how I'm doing, okay?_

 _Lots of love,_

 _Hermione_

Harry snorted when he read her class list. In the back of his mind he wondered how she could take all those classes in one year, but he disregarded it. If anyone could do it, it was Hermione. He wanted to say so many things, but decided against writing anything until he heard back from Dumbledore, if that ever happened.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _What do you mean you're not going to Hogwarts? It's the safest place around, especially with Dumbledore there! I can't believe Black's really after you! Make sure you stay safe, mate. I don't want that nutter to get you! I talked to mum about it but she said that we should trust Dumbledore. I think I can do that, but sometimes I wonder about the Headmaster. I don't know if you remember the first words he ever said to us, but I certainly do, "nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak!" Those words don't exactly inspire faith. Stay safe, Harry. The ministry is sure to get Black eventually._

 _Write back soon,_

 _Ron_

After finishing reading Ron's letter, he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he drifted off in the chair when he awoke to a tapping sound at his window. Hedwig looked at him impatiently. Harry rubbed his eyes and opened the window.

"Hey girl. Good hunt tonight?" Harry asked, observing the dead mouse in her beak. She placed it at his desk in front of him once he sat back down. He chuckled and shook his head, "you go ahead and keep it. I need you to send this letter to Professor Dumbledore. Is that okay?"

Hedwig hooted and nodded. She stuck her leg out for him to tie the letter to it. After feeding her an owl treat, Hedwig took off into the night. Harry turned in shortly after.

That was how the next few week passed for Harry. He would mostly hide out in the park all day with Snuffles, who proved to be highly intelligent for a dog. Dumbledore also answered his letter, which surprised him.

One night, after a day in the park, Harry walked into his room. Hedwig perched in her cage with a letter that had the Hogwarts seal stamped on it. He quickly removed the letter and opened it. It was a lot shorter than Harry would have thought.

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _Do not reveal your location to anyone. This does not mean you cannot tell your friends where you are._

 _Have a pleasant school year,_

 _D_

"What does that mean?" Harry said, exasperated. He looked at Hedwig, "Do you have any idea what he means?"

The owl's eyes darted over the parchment and then she hooted thoughtfully. Harry snorted and fell back onto his bed.

"Your input is as invaluable as ever, Hedwig," muttered Harry. Dumbledore obviously believed Harry would know what he meant. But what _did_ he mean? The letter itself was contradictory with no explanation whatsoever.

Harry couldn't sleep that night. Dumbledore's words swirled in his mind as well as the letters from his friends. There was also Sirius Black to consider. By now, he could very well be anywhere in the world. The thought of a ragged man quietly creeping up the stairs, wand in hand, to kill him made Harry even more restless. Hopefully, the man would be apprehended soon.

Harry's thoughts shifted from Sirius Black to Beauxbatons. This year was going to be very different. Harry wasn't sure how to feel. Harry's emotions about this new experience ranged from curiosity, to anxiety, to wonder, to fear. The boy felt as if he were going to explode. That was not a very pleasant image.

Would people point and whisper at Beauxbatons? He hoped not. He'd just gotten most of Hogwarts to stop. It only took them nearly three years. Would the students make him an outcast? Unfortunately due to events the year prior, Harry was quite aware of the feeling of being alone. He prayed that he wouldn't feel like that at Beauxbatons. His mind tried to assuage his fears. He had nothing to be worried about. They were normal kids, just like him.

" _But you're not normal are you? You're the Boy-Who-Lived. Who could you trust? They could just want to be your friend because of your fame,"_ a part of his mind said. Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. He was being overdramatic. He checked the clock and groaned. It was midnight. After letting out an annoyed huff, Harry threw his sheets over him and tried to fall asleep once more. This time, he would succeed, but his dreams were plagued with doubts and worries. It was not a very good night.

The next morning, Harry awoke to the sound of tapping at his window. He peeked through heavy eyelids at Hedwig's cage. She stared out the window, where the tapping had occurred.

"I guess we have a visitor," Harry said. He kicked his legs out over the edge of the bed and shifted forward into a standing position. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. A regal-looking bird that Harry didn't recognize was perched on the sill. Harry glanced at Hedwig, who stared at the bird in apprehension. Then again, his snowy owl was very territorial, so Harry disregarded the look.

Harry opened the window and the owl took this as permission to fly in. It flapped around for a moment before landing next to Hedwig, who gave it a glare. It didn't help that the owl began drinking out of her bowl. While it was drinking, Harry pulled the envelope off the owl's leg and turned it over in his hands.

The envelopes paper looked very expensive and felt stiff. It was off white, with the only color coming from a blue wax seal with a large B stamped on the front. Everything about this reminded Harry of Beauxbatons, except the seal was wrong. He slipped his finger into the envelop and carefully peeled the wax away to open the letter.

The letter was just as stiff as the envelope and was made of paper. It was crisply white, almost too white. The usual chicken scratches that Harry was accustomed to were replaced by delicate cursive done by a pen. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say this letter was from the Malfoys with how expensive everything was. Harry began to read.

 _Dear Harry Potter,_

 _Hello! My name is Gabrielle Delacour. I am twelve years old and I am a second year student at Beauxbatons. I heard a rumor from my mother and father that you were attending Beauxbatons as well. They are members of the school's board. I hope that is true you are really coming. My mother used to read me bed time stories about you when I was a little girl. What classes are you taking? I hope to meet you this year._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Gabrielle Delacour_

 _P.S. I hope my English was okay in this letter. I have only been speaking it for a year, but my mother is a great teacher! She helped me write this._

Harry stared at the letter and reread it a few times. He then burst out laughing. The girl seemed nice, but he just was surprised that this girl actually sent him a letter! He decided he would write her back. It wouldn't hurt to make a new friend before the school year, after all.

 _Dear Gabrielle,_

 _It's nice to meet you. It's true! I really am coming to Beauxbatons this year. A criminal is after me so Headmaster Dumbledore and Madame Maxime decided it would be best if I didn't go to Hogwarts this year, since that's where Black would expect me to be. Well, you may have heard stories, but I wouldn't rely on them too much. They've never actually interviewed me and no one else alive was there when I defeated Voldemort! I'm taking Occlumency and Quidditch. What are you taking?_

 _I hope to see you at Beauxbatons!_

 _Harry Potter_

 _P.S. Your English is very good! I don't speak any French at all! Maybe you could teach me?_

Harry glanced at Gabrielle's owl for a moment before handing it the letter, which it took in its beak. It regarded Harry for a moment before taking off. Harry turned to Hedwig.

"That was quite unexpected," he said. Hedwig hooted in agreement. He stroked her affectionately while thinking about the mysterious Gabrielle Delacour. A few days later, and the owl returned with another letter in its beak.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _I am very excited to see you at Beauxbatons! Those classes sound really interesting. My sister, Fleur, also takes Quidditch! She is a sixth year and very good! I'm taking Introduction to Magical Art, and Gobbledegook. It would be my pleasure to teach you French. Could you teach me some English in return? My vocabulary is still limited and I rely on my mother a lot to help translate._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Gabrielle Delacour_

Harry was fascinated by the classes that Beauxbatons offered. They were far more numerous than the ones offered at Hogwarts and many seemed to focus more on future careers than just basic magic.

Gabrielle's owl gulped down some of Hedwig's water. Thankfully, his irascible companion was out at the moment, likely hunting. Harry would definitely not mention that Gabrielle's owl dropped by. It would only serve to irritate her. Harry chuckled as the owl drank more water. Harry composed a reply.

 _Dear Ms. Delacour,_

 _First of all, I insist you call me Harry. Would it be alright if I called you Gabrielle? Or do you prefer Gabi? Anyways, those electives sound fascinating! Actually, all of Beauxbatons electives sound amazing! I wish I had the time to try them all! Hogwarts is a much smaller school than Beauxbatons and so there isn't a lot of demand for a wide variety of classes. You seem to be very artistic. What kind of art do you like to make?_

 _I can try to teach you English, but I'm not exactly sure how to start. Would the school's translation spell block our attempts, anyways? This probably sounds like a silly question, but what is Gobbledegook? I've never heard of it before. Hope to hear from you soon._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry_

Thus, there was a new welcome addition to Harry's summer schedule. He told Snuffles about Gabrielle, of whom Harry thought he approved of. It was hard to tell because it seemed like the dog was laughing at him when he was explaining the situation. The dog was a strange one, beyond being able to comprehend English perfectly.

Soon, August 29th was upon them. Harry packed all of his things and placed them near the door. He headed out to the park once more to say goodbye to his friend. Snuffles bounded up to Harry as soon as the dog saw him.

"Hey buddy. I'm going to have to get going now. A friend is coming to pick me up to go to Beauxbatons," Harry explained.

Snuffles tilted his head as if to say, _'a friend?'_

"Yeah. Remember the dangerous man who escaped prison? Since he's after me, my headmaster has decided to send me to a school in France for the year," said Harry. He still felt a range of emotions about that, even after about a month of thinking about it. He could tell Snuffles was a little sad.

"Don't worry, boy. I'll be back by the beginning of next summer! Then we can hang out again, okay?" Harry said, patting Snuffles' head. The dog nodded, excited once more. Harry laughed and dropped to the dog's eye level. He wrapped around the dog.

"I'll you a lot, Snuffles. Even if I still think your name is silly," Harry joked. The dog barked and put it's front legs around Harry as best it could. Then, Harry broke the hug, patted Snuffles on the head and smiled.

"See you next year, Snuffles!" he said, heading back to the Dursley home. Once he got there, he made sure everything was in order. He always had his wand on him, all his supplies were in the trunk, and his broom was wrapped in brown paper. This was done by Uncle Vernon to try to keep people from realizing what it was. Harry only agreed to do it because he figured that it would keep his broom in nice shape. According to his quidditch broom care set, excess exposure could cause problems with the broom. Finally, Harry was ready.

Gabriel knocked on the door a little bit later. The Dursleys didn't even bother leaving the living room. They didn't really want to come face to face with the scary man once more.

"Shall we go, Mr. Potter?" Gabriel asked. Harry grinned and nodded.

"Yes, sir!"

 _Earlier at the Park…_

"See you next year, Snuffles!" he said, heading back to the Dursley home. Snuffles watched him go sadly. After Harry was gone, Snuffles looked around. It was completely devoid of people here. It was nice, but like Harry, he couldn't stay. Snuffles had a mission.

After double checking to make sure the coast was clear, Snuffles the dog began to morph until the dog was completely gone and Sirius Black emerged, eyes glittering cruelly. He cracked his neck.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'm going to make this right," Sirius muttered, pulling out a small newspaper clip. Sirius glowered at a specific rat that sat on the youngest boy's shoulder.

"I'm coming Pettigrew. You _will_ pay for what you did and no one will stop me."


	4. Chapter 4: The Train

Harry still didn't like appartition, even if it was useful for quickly getting from one place to another. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. When his vision cleared, Harry noticed they were not in front of Beauxbatons like before. They were instead in a train station. A very busy train station.

People speaking rapidly in French walked past them in every direction. A large muggle man that was somewhat reminiscent of Uncle Vernon was shouting into his telephone. One woman in a light blue dress was holding a baby in one arm and reading a map in another. This train station was massive, much larger than Kings Cross Station in London.

"Where are we, Gabriel?" Harry asked, bewildered by the huge crowd of muggles around them.

"Gare du Nord station," Gabriel replied, looking around as well, "Give me a moment. I am looking for the entrance to the magical station, Gare du Nord-Ouest."

"Why don't we just apparate to Beauxbatons?" Harry said, watching all the people bustling about.

"You are a student of Beauxbatons, and so you will go to the school like a student of Beauxbatons," Gabriel said, "it will also give you an opportunity to meet your classmates before you get to school."

"Is there a hidden barrier, like at Kings Cross?" Harry asked. He looked around for a pillar or barrier of some sort that might have a wizard or two conveniently disappearing through it.

"No. What if a muggle decided to lean against it? They'd end up in our train station and that would cause a lot of needless work for the French ministry. No, we are going through here," said Gabriel, pushing open a door that read, EMPLOYÉS SEULEMENT.

Harry thought there might have been some enchantments to prevent muggles from seeing it, because Harry almost didn't notice the door until Gabriel had opened it. Harry expected to see another train station, but instead all he saw was a long, unremarkable corridor that had an emergency exit at the very end.

"What—" but Harry's voice caught in his throat. For as he passed through the doorway, the corridor was no longer there. On the other side of that door, there was a huge atrium.

White and golden light filtered through the glass ceiling onto the smooth marble platform. Bright bubbles reflected the light, creating bright rainbow beams. Like Gare du Nord, this train station was packed with people. Unlike the muggle trains station, this one was filled with witches and wizards with strange hats and colorful robes. It seemed that Gare du Nord-Ouest was not just a train station to get to Beauxbatons, but one for wizards in general.

Above the trains, there was a huge display with different times and trains was spinning in place. The curly writing on it was constantly rewriting itself and making adjustments to arrival and departure times.

"Bloody hell…" Harry said breathlessly.

"It is impressive, yes? Gare du Nord-ouest is a historic place for wizards in Europe. It is the central cultural hub for wizards and witches. While trains are not necessarily practical for the normal wizard or witch, we still tend to use them a lot, with a few modifications of course," said Gabriel, pointing out a train that was leaving. It blew its whistle once then blasted off like a rocket. Harry heard a boom echo across the atrium.

"It's brilliant," Harry replied in awe.

After locating the Beauxbatons Express, Gabriel helped Harry with his trunk, levitating it onto the overhead compartment of a car. With a final wave, Gabriel left. Harry sighed and stared in amazement out the window at all the different people going to and fro. To see so many witches and wizards in one place was something quite alien to Harry, yet it connected him to magic as he'd never felt before.

Finally the train departed, leaving Harry completely to his thoughts. He watched the indistinct landscape slip by, his eyes out of focus. If anyone had stopped at his compartment, he was completely unaware. There was so much to think about. It was only the gentle knock on the compartment door that stirred Harry from his thoughts.

A tall, swan-like girl stood at door. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders in ringlets and her blue eyes were sharp.

"Hello. I noticed you are sitting in here alone. Would you like to sit with my friends and I?" she said, smiling. Harry blushed a little, for the girl was very pretty. He nodded.

"That'd be great. Thanks," he said.

"I'm Lucette Couture," said Lucette, shaking his hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied. Surprisingly enough, she did not seem to recognize the name.

"And where did you learn magic before coming here? You certainly are not a first year," Lucette asked mirthfully.

"Hogwarts. There's a man after me in England, so my headmaster thought it best to transfer me here for the year until the man is caught," Harry explained. Lucette looked surprised

"Well I insist that you explain it, but when we get to the compartment so my friends can hear it, too. I think they will be quite interested. Come. I will help you with your luggage."

After taking down his trunk, Lucette led Harry down the train, past a few compartments where he spotted teenagers talking, laughing, and playing games. He felt a pang of sadness at seeing this. He already missed Ron and Hermione loads.

"Here we are," Lucette said. Inside her compartment, there was one boy and one girl. The boy had curly, dark brown hair. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown and his skin was deeply tanned.

The girl had a haughty expression and a lightly tanned complexion. Her eyes were almost black and were heavily-lidded. Harry felt the hairs on his neck prickle as he watched her. She seemed to see right through him.

"Harry, this is Damien Moreno and Maria Castell. Maria, Damien, this is Harry Potter," said Lucette, smiling.

"I see you picked up a stray on your way here. Nice to meet you, Señor Potter," Damien said with a confident grin. They shook hands. María regarded him for a moment before nodding.

"Hello," she said. Harry gave a nod in return. He wasn't the best at reading people, but he felt quite certain he is not

"Monsieur Potter is from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He's transferring to Beauxbatons for the year, though," Lucette explained.

"Just a year? Better not get too attached to us then, Harry. What year are you in?" asked Damien. He seemed to have a look in his eye as if he'd just told a very funny joke. He reminded Harry of the Weasley twins, Fred and George.

"Third year."

"I'll be seeing you in class, then. Unfortunately, my lovely friends here are fourth years, so we won't be seeing them as often, " said Damien. Lucette smiled good-naturedly at Damien, but Maria still eyed him cautiously. Harry wondered what exactly he did to make her look at him like that.

As the train continued along, Harry was liking Damien and Lucette more and more. Damien was quite funny, always quick with a quip. Lucette seemed infinitely patient and even laughed at Damien's jokes.

He wasn't sure what to make of Maria, though. She was quiet, but not like how Neville Longbottom was bashfully quiet. She seemed to be keeping to herself mostly because of Harry. Whenever she did speak, it was with one or two word responses, and never directly to Harry. Eventually, the girls left the compartment so Harry and Damien could change.

"Does Maria not like me?" Harry asked as he threw a light blue robe over himself. Damien looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head and following Harry in putting on his robes.

"She doesn't dislike you. I think she sees you as an outsider. She's not exactly fond of people she doesn't know very well, not to mention you're English," Damien explained.

"I feel like I should be offended," Harry said dryly.

"Blame her _papa_. He's the Prime Minister of Spain and he hates your Prime Minister. The one time I visited, he had gotten a letter from the English Ministry and he was _not_ happy. The words that I could understand were not very nice to say the least," said Damien.

"What do you mean the words you could understand? I thought you spoke Spanish," said Harry. Damien smirked.

"I do, _hombre_. _Señor_ Castell doesn't speak Spanish. He comes from Catalonia. It's a region in Spain. They speak a slightly different language there. He's the first Prime Minister of Spain to speak Catalan," Damien said seriously.

"Oh." Harry said, not exactly knowing what the significance was.

"Catalonia is an area in Northeastern Spain. They speak Catalan which, in its simplest form, is a bit of a mix of Spanish and French. It's a whole complicated thing, but you should know that Maria's dad, and to an extent his family, has quite a few people that don't like him because of where he comes from. Many wizards and witches in Spain want someone who has a more _pure_ connection to Spain," said Damien.

"Kind of like how purebloods don't like muggleborns because they're not born in magic?" Harry asked

"What is a pureblood?" Damien said, puzzled.

"People who come from a family of wizards. Some purebloods in England don't like when wizards and witches that are related to muggles are allowed to learn magic. They think muggleborns are inferior," Harry explained. Damien scowled.

"Are they stupid? Everyone knows family has nothing to do with magical ability," Damien said. Harry chuckled

"Tell that to the Malfoys. They're the biggest lot of purebloods I've ever met," Harry said.

"When you go back to England, you can tell them, from me, that I think they're incredibly stupid," Damien started matter-of-factly. Harry laughed. Damien tapped on the door to let the girls know that they were done.

The girls went into the compartment to change, leaving Harry and Damien standing in the corridor. Much like Hogwarts, students ran up and down the train. Some gave him odd looks as they passed, but no one stopped to talk. After returning to the compartment, conversation moved back to lighter topics. When the sun had sunk past the mountains leaving orange and yellow streaks in the sky, the train finally began slowing down.

"Ah, we're here!" Damien exclaimed, opening the window and poking his head out after the train had come to a complete stop.

"Let's get going. I'm sure Harry is anxious to see the school and I am starving," said Lucette tiredly. Harry couldn't help but agree. The entire time they had been travelling, Harry had not once seen hide nor hair of any person selling food. His stomach rumbled audibly.

They left their luggage on the train and stepped onto the wooden platform. Students trailed up a path that led to the front gates of the school, where Harry recognized the two statues he'd seen last time. As they passed, he gave a small salute and then smiled.

Harry was glad he was surrounded by so many students, as he would not have been able to find the dining hall for the life of him. Circular tables dotted the light blue dining hall, with a crystal chandelier suspended in the air above each one. Small women with insect wings on their backs flitted about the chandeliers, which he thought was quite strange. In the very center of the room was a table that bisected the dining hall. This was obviously the professor's table. Lucette led them to a table near the far end of the dining hall and as Harry was about to take a seat, Damien tugged on his sleeve.

"Not yet," he whispered.

"What?"

"You've got to wait until the professors all find their seats before we're allowed to sit. It shows respect."

"Oh," Harry said, taking a step back to stand next to Damien. Moments later, a group of fifty or sixty adults marched through the door, being headed by Madame Maxime. They all looked to Madame Maxime. She smiled graciously and sat down. The professors followed suite, then the students.

Like Hogwarts, the food materialized in front of them on shining platters. Many of the foods Harry didn't recognize, although he did spot a shellfish stew, a wonderfully smelling beef dish, and quiche. Harry's ears pricked up and he noticed that gentle music was playing. He glanced at the ceiling to find the flying insect-women drifting across the ceiling and singing or playing instruments. He caught of their eyes. She giggled, winked, then blew a kiss at him.

"Don't think to much about it," said Damien, patting Harry on the back. "Nymphs are terrible flirts."

While foreign, the food was marvelous. Feeling adventurous, Harry tried a little bit of everything. He particularly enjoyed the shellfish stew which Damien said was called bouillabaisse. Harry managed three helpings of food before he felt as if he were going to burst. Everyone else seemed to be finishing up as well, most wearing contented smiles.

"I do hope you saved room for pudding," said Lucette, grinning. Harry had been enjoying himself so much he'd forgotten about any sort of dessert.

"I hope so too," Harry replied anxiously.

Moments later, Madame Maxime clapped her hands. New courses appeared in front of them. Crème brûlée, chocolate mousse, and soufflés materialized. Sweet smells wafted in Harry's nose and his appetite was instantly renewed.

"So Harry, tell us about Hogwarts," Lucette said between mouthfuls of custard tart. Damien and Maria looked attentively at Harry as well. Harry blushed.

"Well uh… It's a castle somewhere in Scotland. There's a forest filled with all sorts of creatures including unicorns, centaurs, and acromantulas," said Harry, thinking less than fondly of the year before. Lucette gasped.

"Acromantulas? Why would those things be anywhere near a school? I have read that they are very dangerous," she said. Harry laughed.

"Believe me, I know. My friend Ron and I nearly got eaten last year," Harry replied.

"What!" Damien and Maria exclaimed incredulously.

"Uh yeah. Our gamekeeper Hagrid had been arrested because a bunch of muggleborns were being attacked by a monster. Well, Hagrid had been accused of doing the same thing nearly fifty years ago. He told us to go and talk to the acromantulas, but he didn't realize they'd try to attack," Harry explained. At their panicked expressions, Harry said, "but it wasn't Hagrid of course. Turns out, a basilisk can petrify you if you look at its reflection."

This did not ease the situation. Harry often took for granted the extremely bizzare life he lived at Hogwarts. Most people his age did not face off against the most dangerous sorcerer twice and come away as the victor.

"And… and what happened to the basilisk?" Damien said meekly, as if he were afraid of the answer. Harry took a breath and then smiled.

"I stabbed it in the brain with Gryffindor's sword. It got me as well, though. Bit clean through my arm," said Harry airily. Maria laughed derisively

"You're making that up! If the basilisk _had_ bitten you, you'd be dead!" she sneered. Harry felt a tinge of anger but then smirked.

"Phoenix tears can heal most poisons. Thankfully, Dumbledore's was on hand and healed me before I died. The poison did not feel good, mind you. I've still got the scar, see?" Harry rolled up his robe's sleeve to show his bicep, where a four inch white scar was. He then flipped his arm to show the smaller exit wound scar. Maria looked slightly abashed and also a little nauseous.

"Oh," she murmured. Harry chuckled.

"It's okay. If I didn't witness it myself, I wouldn't believe half the things I've done at Hogwarts," Harry said.

"I still am having a hard time grasping it," Damien said dizzily. Everyone, including Maria, laughed. Finally, it seemed everyone had had their fill of dessert and the plates were cleared away. Everyone turned to look at Madame Maxime, who stood.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another year at Beauxbatons! I trust you all had a pleasant journey here! I suppose I should mention it before any rumours pop up. We are playing host to a student from England. His name is Harry Potter," Madame Maxime announced over the hushed students. That broke the silence, with murmuring and pointing, mostly at him.

' _That's absolutely perfect,'_ Harry thought sarcastically, ' _just what I needed, more attention.'_ After another few moments, Madame Maxime spoke once more.

"I expect you to treat him as you would treat any other student. You will not give him any sort of special treatment,," Madame Maxime said strictly. It was clear that she held the same presence over the students as Professor Mcgonagall held over the students at Hogwarts. No one dared to cross her. Harry smiled thankfully at her and she caught his eye only for a moment and nodded.

"Now, off to bed with you!" she called, clapping her hands briskly.

"Come along, Monsieur Potter," a voice said from behind him. Harry turned to see Gabriel.

"Gabriel! I—-"

"At school, you should call me Professor Martín. Come. I am to show you to your room," Professor Martín said politely.

The halls were decorated very differently from Hogwarts. Harry had seen some of the decorations the last time he was here, but the castle seemed to have so much more to offer the second time around. There were not any suits of armor in the halls. Instead, the hall seemed to be lined with the occasional statue of things like lions, horses, and magical beasts Harry could not identify. The torches bathed the halls in blue light.

"How do you decide who sleeps with who?" asked Harry as they walked along.

"Well, all of the people must of be of the same sex and age, of course. We typically assign them at random, but will make accommodations if necessary," said Gabriel. He led Harry through a door, which opened into a common room filled with boys from eleven to eighteen. Harry immediately spotted Damien and waved. Damien grinned and waved back.

"Welcome to the Gentlemen's Wing. This is your common room where you can spend your free time if you would like. You will be sharing a dorm with Adam Caron, Jaune Mercier, Damien Moreno, and Wolfgang Schneider. I do hope you enjoy your time here, Monsieur Potter," Gabriel said, before leaving the room.

It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. All of the boys were staring at him in wonder or confusion. Damien shrugged and winked.

"Uh, hello," Harry said, waving.

"Welcome to Beauxbatons, Monsieur Potter," said a boy who appeared to be a seventh year. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders, which were broad. The boy was clearly very muscular. He took Harry's hand with a calloused one.

"Thanks," Harry said hesitantly.

"My name is Pierce Ademount. I have heard a lot about you, Mr. Potter," he said, grinning. Harry gave a small laugh. It was very awkward. Most of the older students at Hogwarts didn't really talk to him, even if they whispered behind his back whenever he was in the rumor mill. Before Harry could respond, Damien spoke up.

"Alright boys. It's always nice to make friends, but we should get Harry accommodated with his dorm. Come on Harry," he said pointedly.

"Right," said Harry, moving past Pierce as quickly as he could. Damien led him up a winding staircase. After reaching the fifth floor, they went through a door into a circular room with five four-poster beds. The beds were decorated with blue sheets and a gray comforter. Harry grinned.

"Brilliant," Harry murmured. Damien nodded.

"Indeed it is."

After a tour of the bathroom, talking more about the different classes at Beauxbatons, and sharing some more school stories, Harry changed into his pajamas and laid down on his new bed. He sighed contentedly. Even though it wasn't Hogwarts, it wasn't too bad, either. Harry fell asleep almost instantly.


End file.
